


and she lingers

by avatarellie



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: hashtag angst, hashtag joel miller, i had a sad idea and i ran with it, i love kuvira, i pulled a neil druckmann, im sorry ill make up for this, please dont hate me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:22:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27599534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avatarellie/pseuds/avatarellie
Summary: Thirty days.See her. Talk to her. Encourage her peace of mind. Repeat.How was anyone to prepare for the way she would linger?
Relationships: Korra/Kuvira (Avatar)
Comments: 52
Kudos: 44





	1. and she shatters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first legitimate story I've written in six years. (By "legitimate story," I mean, not a one-shot.) Some of you are possibly going to be mad at me for the direction of this story upon the first chapter. That's okay. If you choose, bear with me as I write this. I'll make your pain worth it.

Whispers flood the halls as the person of interest is marched down to the courtroom, being tightly gripped on either side by White Lotus guards. Kuvira’s face remains stone cold, eyes locked forward, feet dragging across the floor while the assigned guards urge her to move faster. She doesn’t oblige, instead trudging forward with footsteps heavy as an iron weight. She chooses to focus on the sound of the chains around her rattling, honing in on her own movements to drown the shame of the disgusted echoes. There are no more rebuttals spilling from her lips, no knowing smirks, no self absorbed laughs. There is only the steady _clink, clink, clink,_ and the pinpoint knowledge that the entirety of her freedom is going to be ripped right out of her ungloved hands. Her hair falls loosely around her face, one particular section resting over her forehead between two emerald eyes. She can feel the stares, dozens of eyes boring through to her very core, and it stings. It stings, it stings, it _stings_ , but of course, she can’t afford to show that much more weakness. She’s never felt so powerless, not even in the moments of abandonment she’d felt from her parents. At least back then she still had somebody watching out for her. Now she has nothing and no one. She surrendered, she apologized, and now she is reduced to nothing. She feels the love from no one, nor the fear. Just pure abhorrence, unrelenting hatred.

Kuvira grits her jaw, abruptly stopping just shy of the towering doors. The immense pressure of the hands around her upper arms never leaves as they wait for the doors to open. They open with a slight creak, and the young woman is once again prompted forward. Whatever conversations happening within the courtroom ceased with scattered shushes here and there. This is her final go-round. She’s already plead guilty, the only thing left is for the world to administer its punishment to her. Kuvira dares not look in the direction of the Beifongs or Avatar Korra and her friends. She already has their scowls etched into her brain. 

The banging of a gavel beckons the attention of the room, calling the court into session. Kuvira hardly listens to whoever speaks, too busy capturing mental images of whatever she can before she’s most probably locked away in solitude for the remainder of her days. Her eyes slowly travel across the room in front of her, and she begins to wear the exhaustion across her face, draped over her features like a dark veil. Something the judge says coaxes her out of her thoughts. 

“...hereby sentenced to death, effective one month from today.” Kuvira blinks, her momentary exhaustion warping to a blank stare. Did she hear that correctly? The sentence echoes in her head, and she doesn’t know if she’s dreaming. Her breath catches in her throat. _Sentenced to death… sentenced to death._

It’s only when Suyin rises in a fury that Kuvira knows she’s not in a dream. This is real life. They want her dead. Suddenly she feels incredibly small, and the world around her disappears. All she can hear is the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. _Sentenced to death._ This can’t possibly be happening. _Sentenced to death._ There has to be another way. _Sentenced to death._ Suyin darts past her, following the judge and disappearing from sight. 

Kuvira is left standing there, sickness rising from her stomach to her chest. She doesn’t even notice the tears rolling down her cheeks. Suyin comes back, in what seems both like the blink of an eye and an eternity. She appears troubled, and Kuvira reaches for her, her breaths short and choppy. 

“Suyin?” she asks frantically. “Su? Suyin, please!” Kuvira pleads desperately with the woman who raised her. Suyin only turns her head, sharply inhaling and very obviously pained. 

“I’m sorry, Kuvira. I tried.” The older woman chokes back a sob and flees the room, followed closely by her eldest son. Kuvira’s knees go weak, and she crumbles, no longer able to hold herself up. Her weight is supported by the two guards that brought her here, and fuck, she hates them for bringing her here. For leading her to the announcement of her death, like she means nothing more than an old business being shut down. She shakes, one part shock, one part anger, two parts despair. 

Kuvira is forced to stand, now being shoved back through the aisle. She searches the room and locks eyes with the Avatar, who stares back at her, unblinking. Korra’s mouth is agape as she watches Kuvira being torn from the room, the latter begging for mercy. Those wretched doors open once more, and Kuvira stumbles, crashing to her knees for a mere moment before being lifted back to her feet. Her vision narrows, focusing on Suyin Beifong as she shuffles forward again. 

“Su! Su, please, you have to... you have to talk to them,” she begs, her voice wavering. A few passerbys can’t help but gawk at Kuvira acting so uncharacteristically. It’s not like her to beg like this, to cry like this. Suyin gazes at Kuvira, who is rapidly passing her. Kuvira looks over her shoulder as the distance between them increases. “Promise me you’ll talk to them! Promise me!”

“I’m sorry,” Suyin whispers, lowering her head. Kuvira’s distressed pleas are the only thing sounding the halls as she passes through them this time. The rest of the Beifong family comes to gather around Su, equally as shocked at the verdict laid on Kuvira. Sure, they wanted her punished, but not like this. None of them are that cruel. 

Kuvira struggles to catch her breath, already unable to see clearly. Her entire body feels numb, moving because it has to but in no way wanting to. All she wants to do is collapse. She cringes when they reach the outside, hissing softly at the blinding sunlight. The woman is all but dragged to the airship that is waiting to return her to her confinement. She tries to look backwards as she’s led up the walkway but she’s propelled forward and nearly collides with the ground again. Steadying herself, she whips around to peer outside, her eyes landing on Korra, who’d followed her silently. 

From her place atop the walkway, Kuvira studies her, taking in the last familiar face she may ever see, and she’s overwhelmed. They were once allies. Kuvira saved Tonraq at Laghima’s Peak. It was once her duty to protect the Avatar, and she turned right around and tried to kill her. She draws in a ragged breath, never taking her eyes away from Korra as the airship begins to close. What does Korra think of this? Korra saved her life, she comforted her in the spirit world when Kuvira thought she had died. Surely she doesn’t hate her like everybody else, right? She begins to lose sight of Korra, rising to her toes to peer through the quickly closing gap, and just like that, she’s gone. The airship rises soon after.

She shrinks back into another deafening silence, no longer listening to the blabbering mouths of the guards. They move again and force her down into a seat, locking her shackles to keep her in place. Her skin burns, and she’s wishing they would let her go to simply fall from the airship. Surely that has to be better than waiting in agony for somebody else to kill her. 

_Sentenced to death._

Now she wishes Korra would’ve let her die with the cannon.


	2. and she remembers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, meet my OC Jinzuk. He's a good boy, everybody tell Jinzuk you love him.

Kuvira rejects the breakfast given to her the next morning, shoving it away from her and watching the dishes on the tray clatter across the floor. She feels a bit bad for a moment. She doesn’t mean for the food to spill everywhere, but then she thinks, what does it really matter? She’s going to die in a month, what’s a little spilled food going to do? 

She huffs, crossing her legs and sitting back again. That damned sentence hasn’t stopped echoing through her thoughts, discouraging her from sleeping. Sentenced to death. She feels like she’s losing her mind. Kuvira wonders if Suyin is trying to fight for her life right now. Perhaps Korra. Korra has always had a big heart. Is Kuvira worth holding a place there, though? She thinks back to when she first met Korra. 

_“That’s for today, everyone,” Suyin announces. The group of dancers exchange looks between each other and glance vaguely at the four young people being led by Aiwei. Suyin makes her way to greet them and Kuvira catches a good look at one particular woman. She nudges her friend, Jinzuk, with her elbow. The man raises an eyebrow at her, a silent question between them._

_“Avatar Korra is here!” she exclaims with a soft voice, gesturing to the muscular woman donning water tribe attire. Jinzuk peers ahead, spotting the young Avatar just behind Suyin. The two friends begin to walk, following the rest of the dancers out of the studio. They glance over their shoulders once more, all too excited about the Avatar’s arrival._

_Kuvira and Jinzuk spend their trip back to their quarters teasing each other about who gets the honor of guarding Avatar Korra and her friends. They both know, of course, that everybody is going to be on guard, but that doesn’t stop them from pinching and poking each other over who gets to guard the bedroom or accompany them to lunch. Hushed laughter quickly grows into childish howls, the two now running circles around each other, narrowly avoiding pinches and squeezes. What an honor for them, protecting the Avatar._

Her thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the doors opening, and she narrows her eyes at the sunlight flooding into the dark room. 

“You have a visitor,” a relatively deep voice announces. This strikes Kuvira as a surprise. Who on earth wants to visit her? A silhouette steps forward just enough to clear the doors, and then they shut. Kuvira blinks rapidly, attempting to adjust her eyes back to the lowly lit room as the person continues approaching her. They stop a few feet in front of her, kneeling to her level. Their hand reaches for the floor to support their shifting weight, and Kuvira gasps lightly, she knows those hands anywhere.

“Jinzuk,” Kuvira sighs. She takes in his kind face and just for a moment, it’s like she’s not in prison. Jinzuk observes the surroundings, a small frown forming. 

“You know, this is the last place I thought you’d ever end up,” he notes. The woman lets out a bitter chuckle, turning her face away. Her cheeks burn, but she can’t discern if it’s shame or embarrassment. 

“Why are you here, Jin-Jin?” she asks, biting her tongue at the nickname spilling from her mouth. “Sorry, I shouldn’t–”

“It’s alright,” he interrupts. “Reminds me of the old times. The good ones.”

Jinzuk watches her face twist and can’t help but feel so utterly sad. They both sit in agonizing silence. This is not the friend he once knew. She’s colder, bitter, sadder. He wonders where Kuvira’s heart has really gone, because he can hardly feel it here. 

_Jinzuk raps on the door quietly, an attempt to get the attention of one but avoid waking the others. Receiving no answer, he tries knocking a little louder. He grins when he hears a soft groan and continues to knock, listening for the slow shuffle across the floor. He is soon greeted with a mess of black hair and half closed eyes. Kuvira grumbles lowly and rubs her eyes._

_“What do you want? It’s like,” she starts, turning back to the clock hanging on the wall. “One in the morning.”_

_“Exactly!” Jinzuk announces proudly. Kuvira shoots an odd glance and the boy in front of her chuckles. “What, did you forget your own birthday?”_

_“I was asleep. I don’t stay awake and wait for it like some people,” she retorts. Jinzuk snorts and pulls her by the shoulders, pressing his forehead to hers. The gesture had become a staple of their friendship, being the only way Kuvira truly knew how to show affection in her youth. When they first met, Jinzuk admitted he thought it was odd, but as they bonded it grew to be his favorite form of affection._

_Kuvira smiles and grips his shoulders, giving them a light squeeze._

_“Happy eighteen,_ captain _.” The young woman pulls back and studies Jinzuk._

_“Thanks, Jin-Jin. Now, do tell, what are you up to?” She receives no verbal response, instead being answered with his finger held to his lips. Gripping her wrist, Jinzuk pulls her and dashes to the outside, causing Kuvira to struggle in keeping up with him. Her bare feet hardly make contact with the floor as they scurry through the halls, laughing quietly with each other until they reach the door. As they open the doors cautiously and step outdoors, Kuvira glances upwards and wonders briefly if she’ll ever be able to see the moon in her full beauty without the walls of Zaofu. She recalls the tale of Princess Yue, the brave girl who became the moon, and wishes to be just as brave as her one day._

_The young pair is stopped by a fellow guard, who holds a stern expression._

_“What are you two doing?” he asks._

_“Oh, hey, Shoji! It’s the captain’s birthday, I’m just taking her on a quick adventure,” Jinzuk explains. Shoji shakes his head lightly._

_“Don’t be late for your watch, ‘Zuk,” he warns. He shifts to face Kuvira and bows. “Happy birthday, captain.” Kuvira bows and thanks him, proceeding to continue following Jinzuk to what they claimed as ‘their’ tree when they were children. The boy stops in front of it and points at Kuvira._

_“Close your eyes. I have something for you.” Kuvira crosses her arms over her chest._

_“Are you serious?” she asks. Jinzuk laughs at her._

_“Deadly.” A huff, and then the emerald orbs disappear. She can hear him shuffling and attempts to decipher what the sound might be. “Stick out your hands.” And she does. Her thumb runs over a soft fabric and she furrows her eyebrows._

_“What–”_

_“Open.” Her eyes pop open and she stares at a pair of gloves, a muted grey on top and clean white on the palms. She glances back up at him, a question written on her face. “Well, they were my mom’s, but she never used them before she… anyways, I thought you’d like them. You’re always fussing over how you hurt your hands all the time, I figured some gloves ought to protect you.”_

_Kuvira smiles earnestly. “They’re perfect.”_

_“Happy birthday, Kuku.”_

The man comes back to reality, sighing softly. Kuvira finally meets his eyes again.

“You never answered my question,” she notes halfheartedly. He nods in acknowledgement.

“I just felt like I needed to. I had to see you. You’ve been gone for a long time and it wasn’t exactly my idea of a reunion when I heard about your, uh, your sentence.” She tightens her jaw, fighting back tears. “You really messed this up, Kuvira.”

“I know.” Jinzuk blinks a few times, his own tears threatening to spill. He scoots forward and grabs her tenderly by the shoulders, pressing his forehead to hers cautiously. He stands soon after, not sharing another word, and makes his way to exit, stepping over the overturned dishes. “Jinzuk, wait.”

He stops and turns on his heel expectantly. “Yes?” Kuvira clears her throat and looks somewhere between the ground and him. 

“Are you going to come back?” she questions, almost childlike. He seems troubled, like a heavy weight is resting on his shoulders.

“Of course I will, _Kuku_ ,” he assures her. She smiles inwardly at the old nickname. “We only have so much time.” He’s gone a moment after, leaving Kuvira alone again. 

At least she has something to look forward to in prison now.


	3. she tears old wounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, here's chapter three. Thanks for sticking around for this so far. I hope as sad as this might be making you, you're enjoying it anyway. In an angsty sort of "why am I torturing myself with this but I can't stop" kind of way.

Jinzuk keeps his promise over the next few days. He visits Kuvira each morning and begins to bring Pai Sho for the two to play together. Kuvira has never been fond of Pai Sho but if it keeps Jinzuk around, she doesn’t mind. She looks forward to the morning visits and, thanks to her stubborn friend, finally begins to eat around the third day.

Her fifth day in prison, he doesn’t show. Kuvira absent mindedly picks at her shoes, wondering where he is. She’s expecting another visitor today, which means his window is closing quickly. She groans loudly, pushing her breakfast around until she decides she can’t wait anymore and shoves a spoonful into her mouth. Chewing slowly, she grimaces at the food touching her tongue. 

“You know, just because I’m in prison doesn’t mean you guys can’t put a little seasoning every now and then,” she calls out, cheeks full. She knows she’ll get no response but maybe, just maybe, if she complains enough they’ll do something about it just to shut her up. Kuvira continues to eat, and just as another spoonful passes her lips, the doors swing open. 

“A visitor,” the same, awful voice announces. Kuvira returns the spoon to her bowl, not bothering to look up. She knows who’s here.

“Korra,” she remarks. Firm footsteps echo through the room until they are but a foot or so away from Kuvira, then the strong body sits cross legged in front of her.

“Hello, Kuvira.” Kuvira sits silently, unsure of what to say. It’s not that Kuvira is necessarily surprised that Korra wants to visit, it’s Korra after all. She just doesn’t know the reason for the visit. She moves to take another bite of food, merely existing in the Avatar’s presence. She doesn’t dare look into the blue eyes that are examining her. 

Swallowing quietly, she finally asks the Avatar a question. “Why are you here?” And now it’s Korra’s turn to be unsure. She herself doesn’t even know why she came to visit. Korra dodges the question. 

“How are you doing?” Kuvira narrows her eyes, her eyebrows dropping slightly.

“Well, let’s see. How is Kuvira doing? Hm, the whole world hates me, I’m chained to the ground in heavy platinum all by myself and I’m dying in about three weeks. So, I guess I’m doing just dandy,” Kuvira spits sourly. Korra sighs, mentally kicking herself for asking a rather stupid question considering the visiting circumstances to begin with. 

“Your spirit, your mind, how are you doing there?” she presses anyway. Kuvira chews her lip, the question seeming to hit her in a place she’s almost long forgotten about.

“I don’t… I don’t know. I don’t think anybody has ever asked such a question of me,” the older woman answers honestly. She pushes the bowl to the side, still refusing to return the Avatar’s gaze. How is she supposed to answer that? She’s never given it a thought. How’s her _spirit_? What does that even mean? And then she remembers.

_Kuvira is the first to meet with the group returning with the Avatar. She rushes past a few guards, including Jinzuk, eager to be the first greeting._

_“Suyin! Avatar Korra!” she shouts, a kind hand extending as she jogs to them. She stops dead in her tracks when she spots Korra, who is carried closely by her father. She seems almost lifeless. “Avatar Korra?” A worried expression riddles her features as she stares at the woman resting weakly in a bridal carry. Her breathing is labored, and Kuvira looks to Suyin for answers. Suyin pulls Kuvira aside quietly._

_“Zaheer and the Red Lotus poisoned Korra,” Su explains. Anger bubbles in the pit of Kuvira’s stomach._

_“Poisoned?” she asks, visibly seething. A gentle hand rests on Kuvira’s arm, coaxing her out of an outburst._

_“Yes. I got it out, thankfully, but she’s in very bad shape. He almost killed her. We need to do everything we can to help her begin the recovery process.” Without a response, the young captain moves to approach Korra and Tonraq. She slows when she’s just out of arm’s reach, looking to Tonraq. Tonraq exchanges a knowing glance and offers a low nod of permission, allowing her to step forward. She places a tender hand on Korra’s face and her throat begins to burn. She’s never seen anybody, let alone the Avatar, this broken before and sorrow pounds her chest. Korra’s eyes hardly open, just enough for Kuvira to see the bottom of her blue eyes, but they’re much different than when she had seen them just a day ago. They’re drained and exhausted, barely living._

_“We’re going to get you through this, Korra. I promise.”_

The world slowly fades back in, and Kuvira finally recognizes the voice beckoning her attention.

“Kuvira? Are you alright?” Korra asks. Emerald eyes lazily make their way to sapphire ones, blinking once. Then twice. A third time, before she finally answers.

“Of course. Just lost in a thought,” Kuvira responds. She notes how much more vibrant Korra’s eyes are now than they were three years ago, adding it to a list of things to remember before she dies.

Korra tilts her head slightly, trying to decipher the emotion in Kuvira’s eyes. “What about?” Kuvira shakes her head quickly. 

“Nothing. Old wounds.” She forces a tight smile and drops her eyes back to the floor. 

“You didn’t _actually_ answer my question from earlier. About how you’re doing. 'I don’t know' isn’t exactly an answer,” Korra says softly. Kuvira shrugs.

“You didn’t answer mine either. It seems people don’t like to answer my questions these days,” she says, the words leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. Korra fiddles with her thumbs, her bottom lip poking out. A short breath leaves her nostrils.

“Guilt, I guess.” Kuvira snorts and looks at Korra, searching her face. 

“Guilt? Seriously? _You_ feel guilty towards _me_?” Korra’s mouth opens to speak, then shuts as quickly as it opened. Kuvira continues voicing her disbelief. “Somebody call the fucking presses, Avatar Korra, the woman whose sheer strength ripped open a new spirit portal right in the heart of Republic City, feels guilty towards the very one who created that situation in the first place. Absolutely unbelievable.” 

Korra’s eyebrows raise and she nods slowly. “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel, eh?” Kuvira scoffs, scooting backwards. She shuts down and the coldness returns to her face. “I guess we’re done talking.” The raven-haired one’s lips remained sealed and after a moment, Korra stands. She turns to make her way to the door, but before she takes a step, she’s stopped by the all too familiar deep voice, laced with a deep sadness. 

“Korra,” she calls. The Avatar faces Kuvira once more. The once “great” uniter sits broken, her proud posture replaced with a slump of her back. “If you can’t change my sentence, will you at least speed up the process?” Korra stares at her in shock.

“Speed–”

“It’s agonizing being in here.” Korra fumbles for words, but Kuvira seems to have plenty enough. “Or you can sit here and play your guilt game with me, if you wish. I suppose I really have nothing to lose. Go on, now.” Once again, Kuvira’s mouth shuts and she becomes a stone wall. Korra steals one more glance at the woman in chains before retreating quietly. Kuvira lies down on her back, staring blankly at the ceiling and letting the world disappear.

_Sentenced to death._

_You really messed this up, Kuvira._

_Guilt, I guess._

_Sentenced to death._

_To death._

_Death._


	4. she loves deeply

Korra brushes past Tenzin the next day, causing the latter to reach for her forearm and take hold of it.

“Korra, where are you going?” he asks. “You haven’t eaten lunch yet.” He can’t point out the particular expression she wears, which is the only true reason he asks. She moves to clutch his forearm in the same way he is to her, a silent language they’ve come to understand with each other.

“I have to go back, Tenzin.” This seems to stump him.

“To Kuvira? What for?” Korra shakes her head quickly, lightly squeezing Tenzin to alert him that she’s troubled by something. Hundreds of thoughts race through his mind at once, worried for the Avatar, but they’re quieted when she speaks.

“She’s broken,” she answers simply. Tenzin furrows his brows, still not quite understanding. “I can’t let her go like that.” And then realization finally hits, Tenzin nodding slowly, bringing Korra into a gentle embrace. She sinks deep into the arms wrapped around her, sighing heavily.

“You’ve really grown, Korra. I’m proud of you.” He pulls back to look at her, a thousand unspoken words understood in the gaze they share. “Go.” She does. She hoists herself up onto her beloved Naga and the two set off for the prison. Normally, Korra would be all smiles, riding atop Naga, taking in deep breaths of the fresh air. She’d take in the warm sunlight kissing her skin, darkening it ever slightly more with each passing day. She’s distracted this time, concerned for the well-being of the soul that has been ordered to be taken.

She arrives as Jinzuk is leaving, the man casting a low nod in her direction. Their eyes meet, but their lips make no movement. Jinzuk only gives Korra a look that tells her, _something is wrong, very wrong,_ and then he leaves. Korra has no need to announce why her presence is made here, there’s no other reason than to see Kuvira. She is granted entry, and she steps inside, waiting for the heavy doors to shut behind her.

Korra stands silently, peering ahead at Kuvira. Tear stains litter her cheeks as she rocks herself back and forth in small motions. The Avatar carefully moves forward, but she is startled by a wild green gaze that fixes itself on her. A furious red surrounds the familiar green. Korra continues approaching Kuvira, never looking away from her. She is painfully distressed, her body quivering with light sobs, and all Korra can think is _what happened?_ A question forms in Kuvira’s eyes though, catching Korra in a swirl of her own questions.

“You came back,” Kuvira says, poorly attempting to wipe her nose on her shoulder. Korra squats down as the other woman asks, “Why?”

“I came to see if you had an answer to yesterday’s question, but I think I just found the answer,” Korra responds. Part of her wants to reach forward and wipe at the tears still silently falling down lighter cheeks. She wants to nurture. She doesn’t though, instead trying to coax Kuvira out of her shell. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“What does it matter?” Kuvira asks bitterly. “Get out.” The edge in her voice stuns Korra.

“Kuvira,” Korra starts. The wildness returns to those green eyes as Kuvira’s face warps.

“I said get _out!_ ” The screech echoes through the room, and Korra sits back. She stays in her place, which only seems to frustrate Kuvira even more. Kuvira’s fists clench, digging her nails harshly into tender palms, causing Korra’s eyes to drop to the straining hands. “Are you fucking deaf?”

Korra looks back up, feeling an overwhelming sadness. “I’m just trying to help you.” Kuvira laughs suddenly. It’s a loud, mocking laughter, one sharp enough to cut glass if you let it.

“Help me? You’re trying to help me? And what exactly are you helping me to do? What, did you think you were going to just come in here and we were going to sit and kumbaya with each other and that would make the fact that I’m going to be legally murdered in three weeks _okay_ with me?” she rambles. Korra’s lips press together. How exactly did she think Kuvira was actually going to react to her? Her frustrations are valid. She’s sitting alone in a prison like a ticking time bomb. Kuvira sighs, finally relaxing her hands. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m mad at you, of all people.”

“No, I get it. You wanna talk more about it?” Korra offers again. Kuvira massages one hand, wincing at the pressure she puts on it.

“I don’t know. This just isn’t where I thought I’d be at..” she trails off, seeming lost in the middle of her own sentence. “Twenty-five.” 

“Twenty-five? You’re an old woman,” Korra tries to joke. Four years older, that’s something Korra didn’t know before. Kuvira shrugs lamely.

“Almost twenty-six,” she sighs.

“When’s your birthday?”

“About a month and a half from now.” Korra frowns, the only thought circling through her head now is that Kuvira is so close to her birthday. An idea sparks within her.

“We should celebrate!” she exclaims suddenly. Kuvira looks at Korra as if she’s gone mad.

“Celebrate?”

“Precisely. An early birthday sort of thing. Might as well, you know?” Kuvira snorts at the thought. “I’ll bring your friend with me.” Another sharp exhale from her nostrils tells Korra that the older woman is trying not to laugh at the sing-song voice. Kuvira must think Korra is crazy. Here she is, rotting in prison, losing her mind, and Korra is suggesting a prison cell birthday party.

“You’re odd, Avatar Korra.” Korra gazes at Kuvira earnestly.

“Just say okay,” she tells the other woman.

“Okay.”

“So, tell me, oh Great Uniter,” Korra starts, noticing the way Kuvira winces at the mention of the old title. “What do I have to do to get through to you? Tell me something about you I don’t know. Anything you want. An old childhood story, a funny story from your guard days, your first boyfriend–”

“Girlfriend,” Kuvira interrupts. “My first girlfriend.”

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to assume or anything.” Kuvira waves a hand passively.

“I wouldn’t expect you to know, considering well, you know.” A slow nod. “It was easier to get what I wanted if he thought we were an item. Anyway, my first girlfriend. I was ah, seventeen. She was two years my senior. We were dancers together. She was beautiful. Just a little taller than me, skin like warm honey, soft brown hair that sat just above her shoulders. Lean, but incredibly strong. Her smile was endless, I swear it’d add years to your life.

“Her name was Miyuki. She was the absolute love of my life at the time. I would’ve brought the whole world to its knees for her. She thought I was too reserved, though. She was as free as the spirits roaming the world now, and I was stuck in my ambitions. We fought a lot about that. She left me after a year and a half. Left Zaofu, actually. Broke my heart. She never returned. Don’t know where she is now, but I do hope she’s well, if you ever have the slim chance of meeting her.”

“She sounds wonderful,” Korra tells her.

“She was.” The silence that falls between the two is comfortable for the first time. Kuvira seems to enjoy just having someone in her presence. Korra lets a few minutes pass before asking to hear more about Miyuki, which Kuvira obliges with sweet stories of the way she tried to constantly woo her girlfriend, much to the Avatar’s amusement. She never took Kuvira to be such a hopeless romantic, writing poems and snagging flowers just looking to earn a smile.

Korra listens intently to Kuvira’s rambling, watching her face soften, watching her eyes glisten with the fond recollections of Miyuki Dai, the woman who first taught Kuvira to love. The younger woman doesn’t notice the way her gaze settles on Kuvira gently, and if Kuvira does, she pays no mind to it. She simply allows Korra to peer into her world, letting her observe the way she’s loved before, leaving Korra to wonder if anybody but Miyuki has ever felt Kuvira’s radiant warmth like this.

She notices for the first time how beautiful Kuvira really is. The neatly kept, thick brows, the clean jawline, her smooth cheekbones. She takes in the way her hair loosely falls around her face, then Kuvira’s voice fades. This subtle, yet all the same bewitching beauty only has three weeks to live, and Korra has only begun to scratch the surface of life within her.

She needs more time.

_She’s broken._

_Almost twenty-six._

_Broke my heart._

_Sentenced to death._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since we don't actually know how old Kuvira is, this is just my headcanon age that makes sense for her in my eyes. Thank you for reading. More to come soon.
> 
> Side note, the name Miyuki means "beautiful happiness." (Well, it has a few meanings but this is the specific one I'm using.) I chose her name because beautiful happiness is what Kuvira thought she had when she was in love with Miyuki. Just a little cherry on top for you.


	5. she is a warrior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story of Kuvira's gloves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, hello. I appreciate your patience and apologize for being M.I.A. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Enjoy a little baby Kuvira moment. Good for the soul, yeah?

The Avatar rustles through a drawer full of Kuvira’s belongings. Korra promised Kuvira she would bring something of hers to allow her to feel more dignified and comfortable, and she was granted permission to do so. What harm would it do anyway? She considers bringing Kuvira’s street clothes, only to find that she hadn’t given any when the arrest was made. The only clothes in her reach are the dark green pieces to a military uniform, complete with the metal guards Kuvira adorned herself with. Korra lifts the metal pieces, checking over her shoulder to ensure no one is watching, and lays them over herself in the same fashion Kuvira wore them. She is stunned at the weight on her shoulders and tries to imagine Kuvira wearing this every day of her life, keeping her back impossibly straight at all times. _The strength she must have had to wear this_ , Korra thinks. She neatly returns them to their place and continues searching for something to bring Kuvira. Her eyes fall on a small glass case, a familiar pair of gloves resting inside. Korra finds it odd how the gloves are the only item protected inside of a case, carefully picking it up and examining it. 

“Why were you so attached to these?” she asks out loud, not that anybody is there to answer her question. She supposes the only way to get the answer is to bring them to their owner, so she tucks the case underneath her arm and leaves the room. 

“Did you find what you need, kid?” Chief Beifong asks. Korra nods, securing the case between her arm and her torso. 

“Yeah, I did. Thanks, Lin.” Korra heads for the door, only stopping when Lin’s voice prompts her to. 

“Good luck with her, Korra. Just so you know, I’m doing what I can. This is much bigger than me and my pay grade though, so I’m not sure how far I’m getting,” Lin assures, a request from the Avatar since Kuvira’s trial. Korra gives silent thanks and leaves for Kuvira’s prison, wasting no time to get there. 

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Korra arrives as Jinzuk is making his leave like clockwork, but she stops him this time with a firm hand on his shoulder. Olive green eyes study her for a moment, wondering what she wants of him. The Avatar grips his hand and shakes it twice. 

“I feel like we should meet formally. You’re always leaving her when I get here and we have yet to introduce ourselves,” Korra states. The man gives her hand a squeeze as he shakes it in response, eyeing the case tucked carefully underneath her arm, though he decides against asking about it. 

“I’m Jinzuk. I, ah, I was– am?– Kuvira’s best friend. She’s like a sister to me. We were dancers and guards back in Zaofu,” he tells her. Recognition flashes across Korra’s eyes. _That’s_ why he seems so familiar to her. She remembers seeing his face every now and then when she made her appearance in Zaofu. 

  
“I remember seeing you there. It’s nice to put a name to the face. When did you leave Zaofu?” 

“Not too long ago. I’m moving to Republic City. Looking to be a field officer on Beifong’s force.” Korra smiles warmly at him. 

“Well, good luck to you. I’ll see you around then? I have something to talk about with you,” Korra questions. 

Jinzuk glances at her with mild confusion, though he still offers a friendly expression. “Of course. I’ll be around, Avatar Korra.” They finally release each other and part ways, Korra towards the increasingly familiar heavy doors and Jinzuk away from them. The guards give her a nod of acknowledgment and pull at the doors, letting the light flood into the room. Kuvira seems a little warmer this time, giving Korra a small wave as Korra takes easy strides towards her. The doors slam shut behind her.

“Hey, Kuvira. I brought you something,” Korra announces. Kuvira snorts, unable to decipher what Korra is holding as she once again finds herself blinking rapidly at the sudden change of light. The younger woman plops down on the ground, cross-legged as she typically does, and gently sets the case between the two of them. Kuvira stops breathing for a moment, tentatively running her fingers along the edge. She recalls again the first time she was given these gloves, and chokes out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Never has she been given a gift like this twice over. 

For a moment, Kuvira forgets where she is. She doesn’t see prison walls, nor the Avatar, but her cherished friend’s face kissed by moonlight. So, she does the only thing she knows how. She reaches forward and grabs both sides of his face, bringing it close and pressing one forehead to another. Quiet tears fall against her cheeks and it’s only when a smaller, stronger hand grips Kuvira’s forearm does she realize this is not her home, this is not her friend. She rears back as she comes to reality and stares at the woman in front of her, who returns a startled expression. Korra isn’t startled by the outburst of affection, though. She’s always been open to whatever form of affection she is chosen to receive. She’s startled by the abrupt ending of it, and the horrified look on Kuvira’s face. It reminds her of the interaction they shared in the spirit world, when Kuvira fled back in the same fashion as a response to Korra’s touch beneath her. 

Kuvira clears her throat quickly and smooths down her top, awkwardly clasping her hands in front of her and now avoiding eye contact. Korra watches her quietly, a small frown painted over her face. Kuvira sighs softly, only having ever truly been affectionate with three people in her life, two of which being failed relationships. Besides them, affection is foreign to her, both on the giving and receiving ends. 

Neither woman says anything for what feels like hours. They sit in uncomfortable silence until Kuvira opens her mouth to speak, still avoiding those damned blue eyes. 

“I apologize for that. I don’t… I was somewhere else for a moment,” she finally says. “I used to do that with my best friend and this just reminded me of when he gave these to me for the first time.” 

“Jinzuk?” Korra asks. Kuvira chews on her lip, lost in another thought, though Korra understands the answer. “Seems like you two were really close.” Kuvira reaches for the case and opens it, gently picking up a glove. She slips it over her left hand, flexing it as if stretching a second skin. She grabs the right one and slides it over her bare hand, now holding both hands away from her face and staring at the gray and white material covering her skin. She seems comforted by it, like a young child with a security blanket. It’s as if she’s forgotten the shackles around her wrists, instead fascinated with the way her hands no longer remain bare. 

“You don’t understand what these mean to me. Thank you, Avatar.”

“Actually, I would like to understand. If you’d be so kind to share.” Kuvira lowers her hands and scans Korra’s face, unsure of what she’s searching for but searching nonetheless. Another silence falls over them before Kuvira indulges in Korra’s request, explaining the story of her eighteenth birthday. How Jinzuk woke her in the late hours of the night, ready to all but drag her on another one of his adventures. The unwrapped gift. The way she pulled him in to share her affection the same way she had accidentally done to Korra just moments prior. 

Kuvira explains the backstory to the touching of foreheads to Korra, the most intimate display of her friendship with Jinzuk.

“I was never an affectionate child. I was unruly. Angry. Violent. So, my parents never ah, showed me what real affection and intimacy looked like,” she begins, flitting her eyes across the room as she actively bounces through the memories of her youth. “So, when I was left at Zaofu, you can imagine my youthful surprise to the intimacy shared between the city and her people. I thought it was odd, the way they wrapped around each other. I never liked having my body that close to somebody. When Jinzuk and I became close friends, around age nine or so, I had to find some way to let him know that I appreciated his friendship. 

“So, one day, I just… grabbed him by the shoulders–which startled him– and I put my forehead against his.” Korra laughs at the thought of a young Kuvira grabbing a boy by his shoulders just to touch foreheads. 

“Really? _That’s_ what you came up with?” Korra watches Kuvira crack a genuine smile for the first time, letting a low laugh escape her lips. 

“Yes! That’s exactly what nine year old Kuvira came up with! Anyway, he thought I was a total weirdo at first. Seriously, if a nine year old had a ‘what the fuck’ face, that would have been it. I kept doing it, though, and eventually he understood it was my strange version of a hug. It all just clicked then, and it’s been our thing ever since.” 

“That’s really sweet, in a weird Kuvira way,” Korra says, half joking. The older woman fidgets with her thumbs for a moment, waiting for Korra to say something else. “So what’s the story behind _where_ the gloves came from? They seem more important than just a birthday gift.” Kuvira shuffles a bit.

“They belonged to his mother. Ah, she was a Kyoshi warrior. The best of her time. Malu. Her name was Malu. She left Jin with her brother in Zaofu, but she came to visit when she could. Gorgeous warrior. Six feet tall. Wild, curly hair that she kept back in a braid, broad shoulders, the whole bit. She died when he was eleven. Didn’t leave a whole lot, but left these with what she did. Some sort of promise between those two that they would live to protect.” 

Korra’s face softens. Live to protect. “How did you end up with them then? I’d think that he would want to hang on to these, yeah?” 

“I always dreamed of being a Kyoshi warrior. It’s all I ever wanted to be when I was a girl. Strong. Important. Empowered,” Kuvira recounts, images of her practicing her horse stance and imaginary fan work flashing through her head. “I idolized Malu. She was exactly everything I wanted to be. Jinzuk insisted I could still be a warrior, just not a Kyoshi warrior. So, I became a guard of Zaofu. Warrior of the most secure city in the world.” She laughs, a genuine, sweet laughter that rings lowly between the walls surrounding her. How absurd it sounds, calling herself a warrior of such a city that only saw true action when Korra was in it. 

“The gloves are special to me,” she continues. “They remind me of everything I could have been. They connect me to people I have never met before and empower me in ways I'll never be able to explain to you. He gave them to me to carry on the promise. To live to protect. How ironic, huh?” She recalls battle stories of Malu, Suki, Ty Lee, wondering if in another life she could have been a warrior under their guide. The gloves feel deeply familiar, not because she wore them for three years during her reign, but because she feels like somebody greater beyond wanted her to have them. Perhaps she is a warrior in her own respect.

_Young Jinzuk rushes to a woman Kuvira has never seen before. She watches curiously, the large woman kneeling down to catch the boy in an embrace. Kuvira approaches slowly, hands placed behind her back as she eyes the woman with uncertainty. Jinzuk pulls back, reaching for Kuvira and bringing her close._

_“Mama! This is my friend Kuku!” he exclaims gleefully. A furious blush blazes across the young girl’s face and she reaches to punch her friend in the shoulder._

_“It’s Kuvira,” she emphasizes, though her inability to pronounce the ‘r’ makes it sound more like a ‘w’. Jinzuk’s mother laughs, rubbing Jinzuk’s back as he pouts from the impact of Kuvira’s hit._

_“It’s very nice to meet you, Kuvira. I’m Malu,” the woman introduces herself, standing to her feet. Vivid green eyes scan her from head to toe, as if examining an art exhibit._

_“Why are you dressed like that?” Kuvira had always heard stories of the Kyoshi warriors, but she’s never seen one in person until now._

_“Well, I’m a Kyoshi warrior.” Recognition flashes across the girl’s face, then excitement, and a wide smile takes the place of an unsure frown._

_“That’s so cool! I wanna be like you guys one day. Fwoom, fwoom, whoosh!” Kuvira imitates the fan movements she’s heard so much about, putting on the best war face she can muster._

_“With those moves? You’ll be a Kyoshi warrior in no time,” Malu assures._

Korra listens fondly, absent-mindedly running her fingers in circles along the floor. Spirits knows how much time has passed since Kuvira started her stories, and the Avatar figures there must be somebody waiting for her return. Kuvira must have noticed the shift as her story comes to an end.

“You have to go, don’t you?” she asks. A responding nod.

“I do.” The eye contact made is gentle between them, a comforting stillness. 

“Before you go, may I?” A rattle of chains fills the room as gloved hands lift in the direction of Korra’s face. Korra leans forward into them and the woman in front of her leans to press her forehead softly against Korra’s own. “Thank you, Korra. For the gloves and for your time.” They break the embrace and the Avatar stays put for just a second more. 

“No, thank you,” she insists. Kuvira’s brows furrow, a twist of confusion.

“For what?”

“For trusting me.” 

_It was my strange version of a hug._

_Her name was Malu._

_Live to protect._

_Sentenced to death._


	6. she yields

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where they... well, you'll figure it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi lovelies. So sorry for the inconsistency in my updates. I will try to be more consistent and quicker about cranking out these chapters so I don't leave you waiting for a month between each update. For now, enjoy this more intimate chapter.

Three days later, Korra has success in getting a sign for Kuvira’s temporary release into her care, under the supervision of the White Lotus. The day prior, she had argued back and forth until President Moon signed the order, at Korra’s insistence that meditating in the spirit world would be “good for Kuvira’s mind.” Now, with the order in hand, Korra makes her way back to Kuvira, as she always does, eager to give her a breath of fresh air. 

It’s only when Kuvira gives a look of disdain towards the paper slip that Korra’s joyful demeanor falters. Korra’s hand drops and she stares at Kuvira blankly. Shouldn’t this excite Kuvira? Shouldn’t Kuvira be enthralled with being let out into the open world again for a day? _Why doesn’t she look happy? She’s supposed to be happy about this._ Kuvira simply picks at a glove, ignoring the Avatar’s disappointed face. She answers without ever being asked that she doesn’t need to be saved. That she’s already explained this once before, and she refuses to explain herself again. What good is meditating going to do for someone on death row? 

Eventually, she yields. That’s twice yielding to the Avatar now, but this one leaves a sour taste. Kuvira allows herself to be roughly handled by the guards, though the treatment bothers Korra, who insists on handling Kuvira herself. Korra’s touch is electric, and Kuvira has to shift awkwardly in an effort to ignore the way her hand gently closes around her upper arm, pulling her along carefully. So unlike nearly every other person who has ever laid their hands on her body. What makes Korra so different? Is it the cautious placement of Korra’s thumb against her tricep, mindlessly brushed over a time or two by one woman, not unnoticed by the other? Is it the way the Avatar’s fingers curl around to her diminishing bicep, not quite squeezing but not quite a loose hold? Is it the way the second brown hand makes its way to Kuvira’s forearm, resting lightly as a second guide? Maybe. Definitely. But who is Kuvira to do anything but keep a stone cold face to repress the sudden emotions sparked within her? Korra observes the way Kuvira’s muscles tense, though dismisses it as nothing more than an aversion to being touched. 

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

  
Kuvira has to pause when she sees the spirit portal, becoming visibly uncomfortable. The last time she was here, she almost died. The last time she was here, she was nursing a broken rib and shouting at the Avatar for not understanding her struggles. The last time she was here, she surrendered herself to the world, and spirits, did it hate her. _Are you sure?_ she wants to ask. _Do we have to do this here? Can’t we meditate in Avatar Korra park?_ she pleads to no one but herself. It’s as if this is just another thing to dangle in her face, and suddenly she is thrown back to watching Korra’s sacrifice. Watching Korra throw herself between the spirit cannon and Kuvira, deflecting the blast until the world goes black for Kuvira. _Why would she do that? She could have died._ She glances at Korra with uncertainty, and Korra looks back at her, waiting patiently until Kuvira decides she’s ready to keep moving. A slow nod from Kuvira signals that she’s ready to move again. 

Just as she did before her final trial, she focuses on the sound of the chains rattling around her. It’s the only thing that keeps her level, between the sight of the portal she unintentionally helped create and the electricity in her skin beneath Korra’s touch. She shuffles forward with the Avatar, listening for the chains and for the heavy footsteps of the White Lotus behind them. Her nerves shoot up when her foot plants just inches from the glowing bridge between man and spirit. Korra gives her a light squeeze, gently urging her forward until the world around her becomes blinding. Kuvira slams her eyes shut and turns her face to the side, relying on the Avatar’s guidance until she touches the soft ground, covered in flowers of sorts. Cautiously, she peeks one eye open, then the other, unaware of the way she’s clutching Korra’s arm for safety. 

Kuvira’s eyes grow wide at the scenery before her, mouth slightly agape. She gazes at the spirit world with a childlike wonder, taking in the colors with new appreciation. This time she’s not angry, she’s not spitting at the Avatar for not understanding her pain. She simply gets to enjoy the beauty for the first time in her life. She’s never seen the spirits like this and she watches them wander their world freely. Kuvira jumps back slightly at a small yellow spirit that greets her and Korra enthusiastically, shouting something about the Avatar returning with a new friend. _Friend. I don’t know if that’s what you call the person who the Avatar sacrificed herself for, making a new spirit portal in the process,_ Kuvira thinks to herself. Korra gives the spirit an easy smile as Kuvira returns an unsure look. A few other spirits gather around them, giving Korra their greetings and glancing at Kuvira with recognition. She casts her eyes down, wondering if they’re upset with her, though it would be rightfully so. They never express their disdain, though. Just express their greetings when Korra introduces her and move along when she explains they’re here to meditate. The small light spirit lingers a moment longer than the others, attention fixed on Kuvira, which makes her nervous. They give her knee two taps and skip away from her, waving and shouting their goodbyes to her.

Kuvira finally lets go of Korra to give a wave, mumbling a quiet “sorry” to the Avatar. Korra says nothing as the other woman watches the spirit grow farther in distance before Korra brings her to sit next to her. Kuvira mimics the way Korra crosses her legs and glances at her from the side of her eye. Korra teaches her to put her fists together, sitting up straighter, just as the air nomads do. Kuvira follows the guidance obediently, her hair falling loosely over her shoulders as she does so. The Avatar instructs the other bender softly to close her eyes and begins the process of the breath. She encourages her to let her breaths come from her core, letting her energy flow freely and without boundary with each inhale and exhale.

The earthbender struggles with this instruction for a few minutes. No boundaries? She’s an earthbender, her whole life has been determined by the boundaries of the earth. The demands and limitations of the most headstrong element. What is she supposed to do without boundaries? 

Korra feels her hesitation before Kuvira ever flings her eyes open. Kuvira drops her hands and begins to shake her head at Korra, who slowly opens her eyes and turns her head to the other woman. The older woman suggests they leave, insisting that she’s not cut out for meditation. She argues that it’s too difficult to let herself clear her mind like that. That it’s an air nomad practice for a reason, because they are the element of freedom. She’s not. She is the element of stability. Grounding. Boundaries. 

Korra insists the opposite. _That’s exactly why you should, Kuvira._ She reminds Kuvira of how headstrong she herself was, how difficult it was for her to master her spirituality. She tries to encourage her to step out her nature and try something out of her comfort zone. Kuvira only resists, so Korra instead moves to sit in front of her. She holds her hands out expectantly, waiting patiently for Kuvira to take them. 

She doesn’t, though. She freezes, staring at the outstretched hands a finger’s length from hers. _Does she really expect me to hold her hands?_ After a few moments of silent waiting, she finds that the answer is yes, she really does expect her to take her hands. Finally, she places her hands in Korra’s. Three times yielding to the Avatar. As Korra’s fingers gently curl around Kuvira’s hands, Kuvira winces. Not because she’s in pain, nor even because she distrusts the Avatar, but because she’s not used to being touched so carefully. She’s so used to rough touches or hesitation to touch her at all. Now what is she supposed to do when the most powerful human in the world is holding her hands like fragile shells? 

Korra remains steady, instructing Kuvira to just focus on her and mimic her breathing. They take long, slow, deep breaths together as the Avatar tries to settle Kuvira’s restless energy. The older woman anxiously presses her fingers one by one into Korra’s hands, like a nervous tic. Each time green eyes flick to the side, Korra gives her a light squeeze to recenter on her. A soft reminder that she’s there. Kuvira looks away often, desperately searching for something else to ground her, but she always finds herself coming back to Korra. Something in the back of her mind feels wrong. A suffocating energy that begins to swallow her entire being, and again, she slams her eyes shut, shifting her weight forward and back. 

_Give up!_

_She’s a stray dog._

_You really messed this up._   
  
_Not wanted._

_You’re too full of yourself!_   
  
_Know your place._

_You’re no good here._   
  
_Sentenced to death._

_Sentenced to death._

_Sentenced to death._

**_Kuvira, I’m here._ **

  
  
The tears are hot, quick and ugly as Kuvira swallows thickly, throwing herself without thought into Korra, who quickly wraps her arms around the woman. Kuvira desperately grabs the collar of Korra’s shirt as she presses her face into Korra’s chest. And she weeps. She weeps for every nasty word spat in her direction. She weeps for every awful glare she’s received that she has since burned into her brain. She weeps for the day her first love left her, for the day her parents left her, for the day the world turned its back on her and told her no, you don’t get a happy ending. She weeps for the day she ripped the world apart and almost killed the Avatar. Her body shakes in violent waves, spaced out by the heave of her chest when she breathes in between wails. She can’t speak or think clearly enough to mutter her apologies to Korra for sobbing and coughing all over her, though Korra doesn’t mind. She simply rubs gentle circles along the earthbender’s back with a firm, warm hand. 

When Kuvira’s cries soften, she straightens herself out and gazes at Korra through blurred eyes, red in the face, struggling to take in a breath through her nose. Neither woman says anything when Kuvira reaches to touch the base of the Avatar’s jaw, scanning her face slowly. She doesn’t know if it’s the security Korra provides or the immense vulnerability she feels, but something propels her forward until her lips clumsily fall over Korra’s. She lingers for a few seconds before pulling away abruptly, tearing her hands away from the other woman’s face. Multiple frantic apologies tumble from her lips but the feathery touch of Korra’s fingertips brushing against her skin as she pushes a strand of hair away from her forehead stops her in her tracks. The Avatar gives her the familiar easy smile and quietly assures her that it’s alright. Through the exhaustion of her emotions, Kuvira can’t decipher if there’s anything else behind that, nor does she know if she really cares at the moment. 

She’s only thankful that she wasn’t pushed away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They kiss! You’re welcome, mwah!


End file.
